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You know how Nike says just do it? Well, for you it’s just don’t, ’cause I don’t wanna hear it. Understood?”
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“I just wanted to know what it was like to be her for a day. Just a day.”
It was about molding an extension of her own genetics into what she saw fit, about having an intimate connection with the mind she aspired to groom.
If Geraldine had gotten the family she desired, there was a chance none of the day’s events would even be necessary, that her corrupt mind would’ve been occupied elsewhere, and the vindictive philosophy it housed might’ve never come to be.
“These heathen parents have potential in their seeds. Generational potential! Their pathetic, utterly pointless legacies can be furthered by simply existing, by being graced with bodies that function properly.
As beautiful as The Borden Estate was, to him it was a prison built of gold.
The violent amalgamation of inner cranial tissues, skeletal fragments, and Geraldine’s rage. An incident that left an impression of such depth on him that it would last a lifetime.
She pulled her moist panties down, allowing her fermented beaver to peek out from below.
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When Geraldine got juicy, she manufactured a rancid odor all her own, one that made Rock sick to his stomach each time he encountered it.
In the room, she was blind to the typical surroundings that saddened her. The dark reality that she was doomed to remain alone. Within the hall of mirrors, she was able to lose herself in her anatomy, and also immerse herself enough to reminisce about the origin of those feelings.
Wtff
Geraldine wasn’t upset her mother wasn’t riding her father’s face. She was upset she wasn’t riding hers.
WHAT IN THE INCEST IS GOING ON HERE.
Greg turned around, shooting laser beams through the most disappointing sperm he’d ever unleashed.
The destruction was so severe that the audio accompanying the thrashing sounded like Rock was punching a puddle.
He saw so much of himself in the boy.
The conditioning that resulted from an endless cycle of abuse was a profound manipulator.
“If you cannot have zhem, zhen neither can zhey, my lady,” Fuchs said.
He was tired of being abused.
He wanted attention, but not that way. He wanted to be held, but not that way. He wanted to be loved, but not that way. Geraldine had turned him into the saddest kind of damaged goods. The kind that’s too fucked-up to realize it. When horror isn’t quite horror anymore, it’s just normal. And when awful isn’t quite awful anymore, it’s just life.
